


Youth in Reflect

by hedoro



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sappy, Sentimental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 10:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14134071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedoro/pseuds/hedoro
Summary: Aoi remembers their first kiss in detail. It wasn't perfect in any way.





	Youth in Reflect

**Author's Note:**

> i tried to write happy but it came out sappy.  
>  unedited because i'm lazy. hope it's readable.

Aoi remembers their first kiss in detail. It wasn't perfect in any way; a sudden clash of teeth and lips smashed together with bruising force. Painful and awkward, they fumbled through it with their noses and guitars bumping together like teenagers in some dusty closet, playing seven minutes in hell because nothing about it was heavenly.

It was full of fear and screamed of inexperience. And when they finally pulled apart, it was with a quiet shyness unlike the fierce men they knew themselves to be.

They never said anything after that, both reluctant to ruin the somehow wonderful, yet horribly timed, moment with words that were strung together feebly, without thought. The aching longing and breathless relief felt in their chests from finally saying something, no matter how it was said, deserved time and quiet reflection when they weren't so busy attending their own concert.

Behind an amp in the wings of the stage, with the drums and bass calling for them to join in, wasn't the time nor place for professions of love or lust or whatever it might have been.

And when they knew how to say the words, just like their first kiss, it was imperfect in a way that was perfect for them, messy as they were—over BBQ and beer, with sticky fingers and feelings mumbled drunkenly and he would be damned if he didn't remember the subsequent kiss thereafter in sobering detail.

How his fingers curled gently into crisp, bleached strands that tickled his cheeks; the lazy, serene smile on Uruha's face as they leaned in toward each other; their lips brushing together softly, with a sluggishness that only alcohol allowed.

Firm and sure, warm breath tinged with the bittersweet mix of honey glaze and hops.

He sighs and stares across the room, catching sight of the man holding his heart so carefully in his hands. When their eyes meet, and Uruha smiles shyly at him, warmth spreads throughout his body and his stomach flips with the tingling giddiness of a teenager.

He's nearing 40 but Aoi's never felt younger and the kisses they've shared since those first few have only gotten better with age but somehow... Somehow, they've never lost that youthful urgency, nor that bashfulness that comes off as almost aloof to the outside world.

He harkens back to a time when an interviewer asked them how they manage to remain so young (and emotional on his part) at heart and thinks:

It's impossible to lose something, when they continue to find it in all the kisses they share.


End file.
